


Clarity

by FleetofShippyShips



Series: Prompted Harry Potter Works [34]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drunken Shenanigans, HP: EWE, Living Together, M/M, Morning After, Pining, Post-Hogwarts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-26
Updated: 2017-11-26
Packaged: 2019-02-07 01:22:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12830316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FleetofShippyShips/pseuds/FleetofShippyShips
Summary: Ron isn't exactly sure how it started, but they're drunk, and they're kissing, and it's the morning after that brings clarity.





	Clarity

**Author's Note:**

> Prompted by starshaping, on my nsfw sideblog:  
>  _"Should we being doing this?"_  
>  "Probably not, but I'm drunker than hell and you look pretty hot right now."

“Should we be doing this?” Ron asked, stumbling and nearly falling over, as he tried to get his trousers off. 

“Probably not,” Harry replied, pulling him closer, and tugging his shirt off. “But I’m drunker than hell, and you look pretty hot right now.”

Ron dropped his hands to Harry’s trousers to undo them. “Only now? Thanks, mate.”

Harry laughed, right into Ron’s neck, as he pressed kisses to the spot he’d likely already left marks. “This is so weird, but fuck, I want you.”

Swallowing heavily, and taking a step back, Ron watched Harry kick his way out of his own trousers. He was thinking the same. Merlin, they must have had more than they’d realised. He couldn’t remember a time he’d looked at Harry and just  _ ached  _ like he did now.

Aside from that one time he’d come home and Harry was shagging some bloke on the couch, his head thrown back, and the most obscene sounds coming out of his mouth.

Shite, maybe it wasn’t so strange this was happening. Harry had become too comfortable wandering half-dressed around the flat they shared, or sometimes not even dressed at all. If Ron’s mind wasn’t all fuzzy from the alcohol, he’d be telling himself he hadn’t noticed. Hadn’t looked. Hadn’t reacted to that, but some stray thought about something else instead. That’s what he always told himself.

But he had. Merlin, he had, and he’d  _ wanted _ . And then he’d spent a lot of time convincing himself he hadn’t. But it was all coming back to him now.

And it probably explained why he irrationally hated every bloke he caught Harry with.

“You still awake in there?” Harry asked, waving a face in front of his face. “You’ve seen it all before, quit staring.”

Ron blinked, and realised he was staring at Harry’s cock, hard and heavy, and begging to be touched.

“Mate, I really want your cock,” he breathed, the words just tumbling out.

Harry snorted and reached out, grabbing Ron’s hips and tugging him closer, until their cocks were pressed between them, and they both groaned.

Harry hummed, and returned to mouthing at Ron’s neck.

“What are you, a vampire now?” Ron muttered. “My mouth is up here!”

“I love your neck,” Harry mumbled, not moving in the slightest. His kisses were open and hot, with just a hint of teeth, and Ron kept shivering from the sensation. “It’s so… nice.”

Ron snorted, and reached between them, trying look down and catch a glimpse of Harry’s cock when he grabbed it. But Harry was still holding his hips, and they were pressed together too tightly.

Making an annoyed sound, he grabbed Harry’s hands, and pulled them away. 

Before the git could grab him again, he pushed him back. Drunk and wobbly, Harry fell over, and Ron forgot that laughing would hardly get him what he wanted. He laughed so hard he fell over from it.

“You wanker!” Harry whined, pushing himself up on his elbows, and glaring over at him. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Ron said, not sorry at all, as he crawled closer.

“I should make you kiss my arse better!” Harry huffed, reaching down and giving his own cock a lazy tug. 

Ron’s eyes widened at the sight, and he spoke without thinking. “But if you turn over, I can’t watch you do that.”

Harry moaned softly, and visibly gripped his cock tighter. “Fuck, now I’m thinking about you rimming me. You probably don’t even know what that is.”

“I know what rimming is!” Ron snapped. “I live with your gay arse. Fucking blokes over every surface without checking if I’m home first.”

“Whoops,” Harry said with a giggle, still stroking his own cock. “Didn’t know you were watching.”

Ron felt his face burn. “I wasn’t watching!”

Harry closed his eyes and dropped his head back, moaning and thrusting his hips a bit. “Fuck, I think I like the idea you were watching.”

From the way Ron’s cock was aching, he did like watching Harry, even if he would rather be touching him.

Harry cracked open his eyes, and made a whining sound. “Why are you still over there?”

Making a strangled sound, Ron crawled closer, until he was kneeling over Harry and looking down at his face while he continued to touch himself.

“What do you want me to do?” Ron asked, brushing his fingers over Harry’s cheek, feeling how hot his skin was. He wanted to press his face against it. He let his hand drift down the side of his tense neck, and then down further, until he was brushing a nipple that hardened at once.

“Fuck me,” Harry gasped. “Get some fucking lube and fuck me.”

Ron’s heart was thudding in his ears. “Fuck, Harry.”

“That’s what I’m asking for!” Harry huffed, finally letting his cock go, and grabbing Ron’s face, pulling him down until they were kissing. It was messy, and their teeth clacked, but Ron let his body drop until he could feel Harry’s cock hard against his stomach, and he didn’t care one bit about how terrible the kissing was.

“Please, Ron, please?” Harry whined. “I’m not sober enough to do you the right way.”

Ron closed his eyes tight as he rolled his hips, aching from his cock being pressed so tightly between them. “What’s that mean?”

Harry dropped his head back, and gripped Ron’s hips, pulling him down harder. “You’ve never even kissed a bloke before. I’m not fucking you. That’s not… not like this. Should be better than this. Makes sense for me to… to… shit, Ron. Feels so good.”

Harry was shifting and fidgeting under him, creating enough friction to drive Ron mad. Enough to almost lose focus on what he was saying, but not quite.

Ron wanted to laugh, because that seemed stupidly romantic, wanting it better for him, and hardly fit with what they were actually doing, but Harry had a point. He’d never even kissed a man before, and now he was naked, and on top of Harry, and they were both hard, and they’d been kissing. So much kissing, and Harry had sucked at his neck for ages like a fucking vampire, and Ron had no idea what they were actually doing, or how they’d even started, but he didn’t want to stop.

“It never looked all that hard,” he said, dropping his mouth to Harry’s neck, because it wasn’t fair that he would be the only one covered in marks in the morning.

Harry broke out into breathless giggles, and Ron started sniggering with him, when he realised what he’d said.

“Stop it,” he gasped, as the sniggers turned to laughter. 

“ _ Hard _ ,” Harry said, before laughing again. “Kind of needs to be hard!”

“What are you, thirteen?” Ron huffed, trying to pull away. 

“No, don’t!” Harry gasped, losing grip on his hips, as Ron successfully pulled away. 

Ron balanced over him on his knees, and ran a hand through his hair, trying to catch his breath. Harry looked up at him, and made an annoyed sound, before suddenly shimmying until his shoulders were nearer Ron’s knees.

Before Ron could comprehend what he was doing, Harry was balancing on one forearm, lifting his head up, and grabbing Ron’s cock with his other hand.

He met Ron’s gaze for a moment, before he closed his mouth over him, and Ron made several embarrassing sounds.

It had been far too long since he’d had anyone sucking his cock, and he dropped his hands to clutch at his own thighs. Letting his nails bite his own skin, he tried to remember how to breathe, and how to avoid coming immediately like a horny teenager.

“H-Harry.”

Harry hummed in response, swirling his tongue over Ron’s slit, and then kissing his way down the side of his cock. Ron stared down at him, and clutched his thighs harder when Harry looked up at him. 

The intensity of his gaze, even drunk as he was, was like a punch to the gut, only it made his cock twitch, and his breath hitch. Harry had never looked at him like that before, and Ron never wanted him to stop.

When Harry closed his mouth over him again, a few moments later, Ron came at once, and wanted to die from embarrassment.

But Harry just flopped back, and moaned. He arched his back, and Ron looked over his shoulder to see he was touching himself again.

Moving off him, Ron tried to knock his hand away to do it himself, but Harry just made a garbled sound, and came a second later, lifting his hips off the ground and groaning low and long.

Feeling his stomach sink with disappointment, Ron looked back at his face once he’d let his cock go, and had dropped his hips back flat on the floor. 

Harry was grinning goofily at him. “Too slow,” he said, as if he had somehow won by getting himself off, instead of letting Ron do it.

“You are a bloody idiot,” Ron muttered, lying down beside him, even though the floor was hardly comfortable.

Harry hummed, and then rolled onto his side, until he was splayed half over Ron, and kissing along his shoulder.

“Is it terrible that I want to do all sorts of filthy, sexy things to you?” he asked, sliding one hand up Ron’s chest, and thumbing at a nipple.

Ron’s breath hitched, and he tried to think clearly. “Probably,” he said honestly. That wasn’t particularly normal for best mates, after all. “Is it terrible I want the same?”

Harry hummed again, and lifted his head to kiss him, chastely at first, and then deeper, and deeper, until Harry had moved to his neck again, and was whispering, “God, I’ve wanted this for so long. Don’t tell.”

Ron blinked at the ceiling. “I thought you said it was weird,” he said, trying to figure out if that feeling in his chest was a good thing, or an indication he was about to vomit.

Harry made a strange sound into his neck. “It’s so weird you want me back. You’ve never wanted me back.”

“What?”

Harry shook his head, and then moved over him, straddling his stomach, and pinning his hands by his head. 

“Forget I said that. Alcohol talking. Okay?”

Ron frowned up at him. “Okay?” 

Harry nodded. “Okay.”

They were kissing again before Ron could think about it further.

 

* * *

When Ron woke up, it was to Harry trying to creep away from him. Grumbling, he grabbed him, and dragged him back into his embrace. Everything hurt. Sleeping on the floor had been a stupid idea. Having sex on the floor had been a stupid idea. His knees were aching, and he hadn’t even moved them yet.

“I need to pee, wanker!” Harry hissed, pinching his arm. “Let me go!”

Ron made a grumbling sound, and let him go. As Harry disappeared off to the bathroom, Ron dragged himself over to the couch, the perfectly comfortable couch that had been there all through the night, and draped himself over it with a groan.

The night was coming back to him, and making his head ache and pound. It also made his stomach twist, but that was probably less to do with the hangover, and more to do with the fact he’d had sex with Harry, and it would probably never happen again. He wanted it to happen again, Merlin save him.

Then he remembered more, and things that had been hard to think about while drunk suddenly made more sense in his sober, if hungover, state. Sitting upright, he rubbed at his face, and looked towards the bathroom. It made too much sense.

With a groan, he pulled himself up, found and tugged on his pants, and then followed Harry.

When he found him hunched over the sink, he moved up close behind him, and hooked his arms around his waist, resting his head on his shoulder.

“It’s okay, Harry,” he said quietly, hating the sounds of Harry’s sobs.

“I ruined everything,” Harry gasped. “You’re not even… you don’t even… and I—”

“Shhhh, calm down, breathe,” Ron said, kissing his shoulder. “I’m right here, and I’m not angry.”

Harry turned and pressed his face into Ron’s shoulder. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!”

Ron sighed, his head still throbbing, and wanting nothing more than to go back to sleep and put this off. “Fuck, mate, what for?” he asked, rubbing Harry’s back. “You think I would have let that happen if I didn’t want it to? Give me some credit.”

Harry just sniffled, and clung to him. Ron’s stomach twisted. “Harry, why didn’t you tell me you—”

Harry pulled away, and made an angry gesture. “Why would I? You were with Hermione, and then you weren’t, but you had no apparent interest in men. Or anyone, really. There was nothing,  _ nothing _ , to indicate I’d be doing anything more than ruining our friendship if I,  _ for one second _ , hinted that I might have feelings for you. And I can’t lose you, Ron. I  _ can’t _ .”

“Shit, Harry,” Ron said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t know, maybe you’re right. I didn’t even… I don’t know. Looking back, I think I’ve wanted that for a while, but I didn’t… I mean, you’re my best mate, I hadn’t thought about it. But you’ll never lose me!  _ Never _ !”

Harry groaned, and pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes. Ron looked about the room but didn’t spot his glasses, and tried to remember what they done with them while drunk. He’d feel awful if he’d accidentally wound up breaking another pair.

“I shouldn’t have kissed you,” Harry groaned.

“I didn’t object. In fact, I climbed on your lap the moment you did.”

“You were drunk.”

“Again, give me some credit, mate. I’ve been kissed while drunk before, and it never went any further because I didn’t want it to, and I knew it, even drunk,” Ron said. “I wanted it to go further with you.”

Harry looked irritated, and Ron shook his head. He grabbed his wrist, and tugged him out of the bathroom. “We’re not having this talk in the bloody bathroom. Come on, I’ll make us tea.”

“I’d rather get on with you telling me—”

“Don’t tell me what I’m going to say!” Ron snapped, turning on him. “Don’t even start. You know I hate that.”

Harry scoffed. “Well, you’re not about to tell me you’ve been pining after me too!”

Ron felt his face heat a little. “I’m not sure how I feel right now, but I know I’m not angry, I’m not disgusted, and I have no regrets. So sit your arse down while I make us some tea!”

Harry made a disbelieving sound, but went over and dropped onto the couch. Ron looked at him for a moment, and then shook his head. They needed more than tea. Squaring his shoulders, he headed for the kitchen.

“You better still be on that couch when I get back!” he called over his shoulder.

“Make your fucking tea!” Harry snapped back.

Ron grit his teeth, but didn’t respond. He was well used to how Harry got when he was defensive about something. And from the things he’d said while they were drunk, after their first orgasm, and then again, when Ron had been fucking him, this had been festering in him for a long time. And Ron felt like a complete idiot for not noticing.

 

* * *

“I’m not hungry,” Harry said, the second he caught sight of the plates levitating behind Ron as he re-entered the lounge carrying the tea tray. He’d found and put this clothes on, and Ron put the tray down, and found his shirt, pulling it on. He couldn’t spot his trousers, so he just stayed in his pants. If he looked down, he could see the carpet burn that was making his knees feel like they were on fire.

“You’re going to shut up and eat anyway,” he huffed.

“See, you’re pissed at me!”

“Because you’re being a defensive little shit, and we both need to calm down, but you’re spoiling for a fight, and you know just what to say to me to get me riled up,” Ron said sternly, before Harry could start them off again. “Please don’t.”

“Food doesn’t solve everything,” Harry muttered, grabbing one plate out of the air anyway.

“No, but we all think more clearly with food in our stomachs,” Ron said, sitting next to him, and trying not to notice when Harry shifted away from him.

They ate in silence, and Ron tried to think of what to say. It was clearer and clearer that he’d been ignoring and explaining away an attraction he had to Harry. His anger and jealousy towards the men Harry slept with was now blatantly obvious, and he couldn’t even remember how he’d convinced himself it was anything else.

But he still wasn’t really sure how he felt. But Merlin, he knew he’d have to have some idea. Harry was in no state for uncertainties. 

It was like when he’d come out all over again. Angry and defensive, assuming the worst and not really listening to anything to the contrary. Ready to run away the moment the anger gave way to the fear of being hurt by the ones he loved.

When they finished eating, Ron banished the plates back to the kitchen, and, before he thought better of it, straddled Harry’s lap.

Harry’s breath caught, and he looked up at him with wide eyes. “Get off me.”

“No,” Ron said, settling in, and placing his hands on Harry’s shoulders. “Now, I’m not completely sure how I feel, Harry, but last night… last night was something I wanted to happen. Even if I wasn’t really aware of it.”

Harry swallowed, and looked away. “You say that now, but before it happened, you didn’t give any indication you were interested that way.”

Ron sighed. “I think I spent a lot of time convincing myself I wasn’t, mate. But you were right, I had seen you shag blokes, and I had looked, and I did like what I saw. Not them, I hated them. I hated them enough that it was clearly jealousy now. But you, I liked the look of you.”

Harry looked back at him. “I didn’t have sex out here so you would see and want me. I wouldn't do that.”

“I know. You’re just a bit of an exhibitionist,” Ron replied easily.

“I can’t believe you know what that means.”

“Sod off!” Ron growled. He hadn’t, really, until Hermione had told him once, when he’d been complaining about walking in on Harry having sex all the time in the lounge, or the kitchen, or really, anywhere he could be walked in on.

“Fuck, Ron,” Harry said, closing his eyes and rubbing at his face. “Just… can’t we just…”

Ron narrowed his eyes. “Pretend it never happened? No, Harry. Not at all.”

“It doesn’t have to change anything,” Harry tried.

Ron shook his head. He pulled Harry’s hands away from his face, and then cupped it gently himself. 

“I want it to change things. I want… I want it to happen again,” he said, his stomach twisting. He did. Merlin, he did. How he’d managed to block it all out for so long was beyond him, but now the floodgates were open, and everything about Harry drew him in, in a way that was very clearly  _ not _ platonic. “Well, not the sleeping on the floor part. That part was awful.”

Harry rested his hands on Ron’s sides, and Ron risked letting their foreheads rest together.

“Ron, please be serious with me,” Harry said softly. “I’m okay pretending it never happened. I’m not okay with… don’t fuck with me, okay?”

Ron shivered, and tilted his chin forward. Completely sober, kissing Harry was different than when they were drunk. Softer, less desperate. Quiet. Just a gentle pressing of lips, and the sound of Harry’s shaky breathing. It was soothing, warm, comfortable, and he felt some of his nerves settle.

When he pulled back, Ron just wanted to press kisses to his cheeks, his forehead, his nose. Anywhere. Harry looked like he was in pain, and he just wanted to take it away. He hated seeing him in pain.

“I can’t promise you that I’ll love you the same. That part I’m not sure of,” he said softly, knowing him well enough to know the direction of his thoughts. “But you’re my best mate, and I do love you. A lot. You’re one of the most important people in my life. And this, doing this with you. It’s not because I only want you to be happy, and it’s not an experiment, and it’s definitely not a joke. This… I want this. With you. I want this with you, Harry,” he said softly, kissing him again, just once. Still chastely. 

Harry shivered, and then seemed to droop. “I’m so in love with you, Ron. I have been for years.”

Ron closed his eyes. “I’m sorry I didn’t notice sooner.”

Harry was now clutching the fabric of his shirt at his sides. “I didn’t want you to notice. Doesn’t this scare you?”

“Yeah,” Ron admitted softly. “It’s new. I… you were right. I’d never even kissed a bloke before, and last night we…” Ron swallowed heavily. Even thinking briefly about the way they’d kissed, and touched, and fucked filled him with heat. “But I’m okay. I liked it. I liked everything. I think  _ because _ it was you. I don’t think I’d have done that with anyone but you.”

Harry seemed to shiver again. “I don’t know what to do,” he said.

Ron shrugged gently. “Me either. Figure it out together?”

Biting his lip, Harry searched Ron’s expression, and then leaned forwards. Ron met him halfway, and kissing him just seemed to get better and better. Harry let go of his shirt, and slid his hands up to splay over his back. It was so gentle and innocent at first, and then their tongues were touching, and Harry was pulling him closer. He got a hand under Ron’s shirt, and skimmed it up his side, before moving it around to brush his nipple.

Ron parted their lips, and rested their foreheads together. He was already breathing more heavily, and perhaps it should be stranger, now that he was sober, but when Harry pulled his hand away, Ron reached down and put it back.

Without the alcohol, it was a softer, slower kind of arousal, and he liked it more.

“You really like this?” Harry asked, his eyebrows drawn together.

Ron pressed him against the back of the couch, and hummed. “I really do.”

Shuddering, Harry pulled his hand away, and wrapped both arms around him again, burying his face in Ron’s neck.

“I don’t want to have sex right now,” he mumbled. “I just want to… to…”

Ron grinned. It was too good to pass up, even in the middle of a serious situation. Or maybe they needed it to break the tension. “Awww, does ickle Harry want to cuddle his ickle Ronniekins?”

Harry groaned, and slapped his side. “Gross, you sound like George!”

Unable to stop a chortle of laughter, Ron grabbed Harry’s shoulders and then lurched to the side, so they fell sideways until they were sprawled out on the couch. 

“I’m fine with just cuddling.”

“I should push you off after what you said,” Harry grumbled.

Ron chuckled again, before a thought came to him. “Bugger! The tea!”

Twisting around, he saw it still sitting on the tray he’d put down on the coffee table. They’d eaten, but completely forgotten the tea.

Harry started laughing, but wouldn’t let him go when he tried to get up to sort it out. 

“You and your bloody ‘a cup of tea fixes everything’ bollocks,” he said, pulling Ron back to him, and holding him tightly. “ _ You _ fix everything, you idiot. God, you’re so perfect, Ron.”

Ron snorted. “Hardly, or I would have noticed this sooner!” he said, before thinking.

Harry’s grip on him tightened a bit, and then relaxed. “Well, you noticed now, and…”

“And I’m not running,” Ron finished for him, nudging at his nose, until Harry tilted his head up, and they kissed. 

Still only chaste, Harry broke it off first, and wrinkled his nose. “Wish you’d run and brush your teeth though, that morning breath could kill.”

“Oi!”

**Author's Note:**

> Well, this got way longer than I intended...


End file.
